


Cruel to Be Kind

by citrinestone



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinestone/pseuds/citrinestone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attraction is growing between Harry and Pansy, but is there any hope after what happened at the final battle. Ships: HP/PP & HG/DM</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruel to Be Kind

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm grateful of JKR for letting me play with them.

Also thanks to my betas all mistakes are mine.

Being nice is overrated. Anyway what is nice? Why am I even thinking about it? Maybe it had to do with working at the ministry and having to see Potter. Every day. And thinking maybe I should be nice to him. Why? I must admit that I had some interest, but I didn't know why. I needed to investigate.

I had to get his attention some way. We really didn't speak to each other and avoided eye contact. There were a couple of times I believe that he glanced my way, but it is hard to be sure with those glasses he wears. Doesn't he know there are charms that can fix sight?

We finally bumped into each other. I was feeling some annoyance toward him, and I felt like doing something physical to him. So, when I heard him talking to someone around the corner, I stopped and waited, knowing that this would be a great opportunity to smack him with something. Preferably my fist, but that just wouldn't be good office politics, would it? I saw that I was holding an empty cup. Pity there was wasn't any hot coffee in it. So, as he turned the corner, he bumped into my cup. Okay, maybe I charmed it to punch him like one of those muggle boxing gloves. But I finally got his attention. I mean finally… I don't know what I mean. Anyway, he turned and looked at me and just stared.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," I said putting an emphasis on 'Pot'.

Before he could answer, I walked on and noticed his reflection in the mirror that was hanging on the wall. I smiled when I saw he was rubbing his arm where the cup had punched him, I mean where he bumped into the cup. But that was short-lived when he smiled back as I walked into a wall. Damn!

For some reason I didn't like the idea that he saw me walking into a wall. I felt like he had something over me. I felt like a fool. Note to myself: I must get even.

One day I was walking through the halls of the ministry and I couldn't believe what I saw. I had to find a nice little dark corner to take a better look and make sure that my eyes were seeing clearly. I found a place right behind some potted plants and I hunched over a little to hide. It was my ex with Potter's bushy-haired friend. And what the—? They were holding hands. Why didn't I know about this? I stood up, stepped back and bumped into someone. I saw a pair of eye glasses falling to the floor and didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

For some reason my heart started beating faster. I turned to tell him something not so nice, but when I did, I couldn't help but see how green his eyes were.

"They're beautiful," I said. Realizing that I had actually said it out loud, I turned and walked away quickly and ran into the girls' restroom.

I needed to compose myself, and to do some quick thinking about how I was going to fix this. But first of all I had to figure out why. I had said what I'd said for some reason. And for some reason I started to cry. I hadn't cried for years, even during my seventh year, which was the worst year of my life.

Thoughts of how I was willing to offer Harry came to me. It hadn't been guilt or shame. It had just been something I had believed was the best thing to do at the time, for me and others. But yet I wished I hadn't done it, and the reason became clearer as I stared into the bathroom mirror. I was falling in love. Damn!

This realization started making me cry more. Suddenly the bathroom door opened, and I saw bushy hair. Okay, so it wasn't that bushy. I started washing my face, because I didn't want that nosy busybody asking me any questions.

She went into a stall and I quickly did a charm to take away any evidence that I had been crying. I saw that Granger was coming out of the stall, and I started using my wand to change my hair style.

As she washed her hands I asked, "So, you're with Draco?" I put my wand away, not taking my eyes off my image in the mirror. "How did that happen?" I continued looking in the mirror making sure every hair was in place.

"Is that why you were crying?"

"Crying?"

"Yes, I heard you."

Oh hell. Why didn't I use a silencing charm? Now I had another thing I had to fix.

"No. It was over someone … something else. Nothing for you to worry about. It was over before Draco and I were over." What did I just say? I thought I'd better leave before I talked more nonsense.

"I bet it is someone, and I might know who."

"You know nothing." I turned and looked at her, and I swear she had an evil smile on her face. But who would believe me? I started to walk away and she continued to talk.

"Yes, we're together. And how? I still ask myself that sometimes. I think I just followed my heart, because I was tired of fighting. Sure there are things we have to work through, but—"

"I don't really care Granger. Don't know why I bothered to ask. I guess I was trying to be nice, which I realize doesn't work for me."

I walked out the door quickly. And stopped to catch my breath, which wasn't a good idea since the door continued to swing in and out. Before I knew it, the door hit me from behind, pushing me, and just my luck Potter was there to catch me.

There were those green eyes again. I wanted to tell him something mean, like get your paws of me, but Granger's words came back to me. I also was tired of fighting, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

I finally said something nice and meant it. "Thank you, Harry."

He helped me regain my balanced, and then said, "You're welcome."

I stood there a while, wanting to say more, but realized that I was the one dealing with these mixed feelings, not him.

I saw Granger coming out of the bathroom. I said nothing and walked away toward my office. As I walked away, I could hear him and Granger mumbling something.

As I entered the office, I was glad that no one else was in there. I sat in my chair with my elbows on the desk. I didn't want to feel what I was feeling. I didn't want to think about it. What was the point? Surely Harry hated me. Why wouldn't he? I put my head in my hands and willed myself not to cry. Especially not at work. Again. Maybe I would allow myself that later, when I was at home.

I heard a knock at the door, which was still open, and looked up to see Harry.

"What do you want?" I said in a not-so-nice way.

"I think we need to talk."

"About what? Me wanting to turn you over to Voldemort?" There, I'd said it. It was out in the open.

Harry looked surprised.

"Err. Well, that was something I wanted to ask you about, but not right away."

"But I think we should just get it out of the way. Isn't that one of the things you think about when you see me in the halls?"

"Well, one of the things, but there are others."

"Sit down." He didn't move. "Please." He finally sat down. "This is really hard for me, Potter."

"Can't you just call me Harry, like you did outside the bathroom?"

I nodded my head and started to talk about the day I had wanted to turn him over.

"Death Eaters running the school and running the ministry—for some of us this meant that Voldemort had already won the war." As I was talking to him I couldn't look at him. "And this was how it was going to be. We just had to make the best of it."

"Best of what? It was a horrible many others. What did you think about the squatters? The prisoners?"

I could hear the anger in his voice. I turned to look at him for a brief second, and then my I eyes turned to his hands, which turned into fists. I then turned to my hands, which were my fingers were laced, and I continued to talk.

"Not many knew of those things. They didn't tell us anything. No one told us anything!" I could feel my anger rising, but it wasn't toward him. So many thoughts were going through my mind. I was thinking about how everyone thought all Slytherins were evil. How people thought that we all thought the same. I knew of people in my house that sided with the Order, but were never given a chance. I knew of students in other houses that supported Voldemort, but that never seemed to be brought up. As for me, my main concern was my family and me, and at that time it seemed like the best bet was Voldermort.

I continued. "Not many of us knew that the Order was still fighting, or that Severus Snape was a spy, and most importantly that YOU were a secret weapon. How was I supposed to know?"

"You knew enough!" He stood up and I did the same. We were now looking at each other.

"I was scared!"

"That's no excuse!"

"It's plenty for me. Not all of us can be a self righteous Gryffindor!" At that moment I thought that I shouldn't have said self righteous, and quickly said something else. "Why you are here anyway, Potter?"

"I thought-. Oh never mind."

He left and slammed the door.

I didn't see him for three weeks. I didn't want to ask anyone about him, because I didn't want to embarrass myself if my worse suspicions were true—that he didn't want anything to do with me. I was finally able to overhear someone talking. He had been around a few days after our talk, but then decided to take a holiday. I thought that maybe he was seeking employment elsewhere. My heart dropped. I told myself that I had to stop thinking about him, but I couldn't.

It was another two weeks before I heard anything else about him. He was coming back. I felt relieved, but also scared. What was I going to do next time I saw him?

The day he was back I didn't see him, or even the next day, or the day after that. Maybe I was hiding. Maybe he was. Or maybe it just wasn't meant to happen. I hated the idea of not seeing him. I wanted to see him. To talk to him. For him to tell me that he just couldn't stand the sight of me. Something had to happen to get me to move from this place, even though it was in a direction I didn't want. Waiting for something to happen just wasn't for me; I had to make something happen.

I finally saw him. I thought it best to confront him. Get it over with.

"Haven't seen you around, Potter," I said with confidence.

"Harry," he said, which I saw as a good sign.

"Okay, Harry." I thought I would be bold—well basically be me—and asked him, "So, where have you been? Some special assignment, or have you been running away from me after our last conversation?"

I knew this sounded self-centered, but I needed it to be out there. I needed to have him reject me straight up, so I could let go of what little hope I had of being with him. Okay, so I had been daydreaming about it a lot.

"Err."

"Speak, Potter, speak."

"Partly. I just don't want to talk about it…"

"Oh." I started to walk away, because I felt like I had my answer. He gently grabbed my arm to stop me from leaving. I stopped and he let go, and I wish he hadn't.

"I just don't want to talk about it here." He looked around to see if anyone was nearby.

"Where? Outside? Now?" I was trying to hide my excitement, but I think I gave myself away by the tone of my voice.

"Maybe tonight. Over dinner."

"Yes," I said right away, before he could say no. "Are you sure?" I asked thinking maybe I should give him an out.

He gave a nod.

"Are we going to continue to talk about what were talking about last time?" I clutched the folder I was holding tighter.

"Err. Do you want to?"

I shook my head. "I know we should, but just for tonight, can we not? I want it to be about Harry and Pansy and not about the Boy-Who-Lived and the evil Slytherin pug-nosed bitch. "

"That would be nice. I better get back to work. And I'll pick you up at your office later."

"Yes," I said, trying not to smile as he walked away. I was feeling something I hadn't since I was a child: hope. And that was exactly what I needed.

 

 

A/N Thanks for reading, reviewing or just stopping by.


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